


boy you got me blinded

by plainlily



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Fingering, M/M, Rimming, post AMAs, there's a small mention of Charlie Puth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-05 02:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12784923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plainlily/pseuds/plainlily
Summary: post AMAs.“I ‘spose,” Niall finally says, “since we’re here I can tell ya congrats on the award again, eh? It’s not every day, and all ‘at.”“You too,” Shawn is quick to reply. “You- you deserve it so much, I know how hard you worked, and the album is so so good, I love it-”“Thanks, lad,” Niall interrupts, politely, somehow. “Now,” his voice drops to barely above a whisper as he leans up to Shawn’s ear, “if ya want, I can congratulate ya some other way besides just tellin’ ya.”





	boy you got me blinded

**Author's Note:**

> the sexual tension between these two at the AMAs was kind of unbelievable and I'm so here for it that I revived an ao3 account I haven't posted on in almost four years. so there's that.  
> (PS I saw pics of Niall at the AMAs afterparty and he was back in the plaid suit but for the sake of this plotless porn we're gonna pretend he stayed in the outfit from his ["Slow Hands"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_JMBlCqh28) performance)

Shawn is drunk. He’s actually fucking drunk, and he doesn’t even think that’s legal here, it probably isn’t, but it’s not like anyone in this room cares. He was talking to someone a moment ago, he’s not sure who, but they left and now he’s lost in the chatter and colored lights and shit, he’s lonely, he’s drunk, and he needs to find Niall.

Niall, Niall, lovely, handsome Niall. He’s probably still wearing that dumb hat he wore for his performance. Shawn hopes he’s still wearing the weird cowboy shirt too. Niall looked great in it, the sleeves hugging his arms nicely, the top button undone to show just enough of his pale collar, contrasting beautifully against the dark fabric. Shawn is just. A big fan of the weird cowboy shirt.

Shawn walks tipsily through the throngs of people, blurry eyes peeled for the hat, ears open for Niall’s signature laugh; for whatever reason he knows the pitch of it like the back of his hand, like the sheet music for his own songs. It’s a bit higher when Niall’s been drinking, but still familiar enough, and when Shawn catches something like it coming from his right, his heart stutters.

“‘scuse me,” he mutters, starting to push in that direction. He stands up onto his tiptoes at one point but it doesn’t help- it looks like Niall’s ditched the hat and this was easier when he was blonde, for Shawn to spot him in a crowd. (Not that Shawn went to every award show and event hoping to spot a head of golden locks, and once he did, come up with every excuse under the sun to go say hello, as if he and Niall aren’t friends, and that’s not excuse enough. Course not.)

He hears the laugh again and yes, that’s definitely him, fuck, Shawn is so happy he’s-

“Found you!” he yells, maybe a little too loud. Niall cackles at his entrance, head thrown back as he slides an arm under Shawn’s jacket around Shawn’s waist, and it fits there perfectly, how is he so perfect.

“Ya did find me!” Niall says, waving off the group he was with as he pulls Shawn away from the center of the room. “Din’t know ya were lookin’ for me, why’s that?” he asks curiously.

“Just to say hi,” Shawn drops his head down against Niall's. He tries to match his footsteps to Niall’s, too, but now everything is kind of sideways and he almost steps on the other boy’s feet a couple of times. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“S’okay. But ya know ya did see me all night? We dead sat right next to each other.”

They did. And it was so much fun, maybe the most fun Shawn has ever had at these awards, or any awards this year, or any awards ever.

“Mhm,” he says. “Wanted to say hi again.” Niall stops them in front of some empty lounge couches, dumps Shawn somewhat unceremoniously onto one, then sitting next to him, quite close.

“I see,” Niall says. His smile is warm, the one little dimple he has coming out, and damn, there goes Shawn’s heart stuttering again. “Go on, then.”

Huh? _Oh_.

“Hi,” Shawn says dumbly.

Niall laughs a quieter laugh this time. “Hello,” he says, quirking an eyebrow. There’s a silent, thoughtful moment between them. At least, it seems to be thoughtful on Niall’s part. Shawn is just admiring Niall’s cowboy shirt again; he didn’t get to see it up close for long enough earlier, but yeah, it’s still great.

“I ‘spose,” Niall finally says, “since we’re here I can tell ya congrats on the award again, eh? ‘S not every day, and all ‘at.”

“You too,” Shawn is quick to reply. “You- you deserve it so much, I know how hard you worked, and the album is so so good, I love it-”

“Thanks, lad,” Niall interrupts, politely, somehow. “Now,” his voice drops to barely above a whisper as he leans up to Shawn’s ear, “if ya want, I can congratulate ya some other way besides just tellin’ ya.”

Shawn’s brain takes a moment to catch up, several beats passing before it registers what Niall is suggesting, that they- that they- _oh_.

Niall must catch the intake of breath from Shawn, or the way his eyes go a bit wider, because he adds, “I got a room in this hotel. Jus’ twenty floors up.”

Well. It looks like they’re doing this.

Again.

~

Twenty floors and a shot of whiskey each from the mini-bar later, and Shawn is falling back onto Niall’s bed, pulling his shirt off over his head as he goes and it’s not a blink before Niall’s hands are all over him, roaming his chest, pinching his nipples, blunt fingernails scraping lightly down his abs.

“Fuck, ya look good,” Niall groans. “Is all ya do with Puthy work out? Or have ya got him fuckin’ ya the same as your other lads?”

Shawn doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so much has happened so quickly, the burn of alcohol still lingers in his throat and now he has images of Charlie in his head, shirtless and sweaty, and how might he look on top of Shawn? Not as good as Niall looks right now, he’s sure of it.

“That was a question,” Niall says pointedly. He tugs the waistband of Shawn’s slacks up, dipping his fingers underneath teasingly, leaves them there as he waits for an answer.

“No, no, no,” Shawn shakes his head. “Don’t have other boys, don’t have Charlie, or, or anyone, no one else, please please please, Ni-”

He’s not even making sense but it’s okay because Niall shushes him with his mouth, pushing it against Shawn’s and fucking his tongue in, in a manner that could be called sloppy but it’s actually just wet and perfect and god, Shawn is so hard.

Niall pulls away, dips down to mouth at Shawn’s nipples now. He licks at one then sucks lightly, and fuck, Shawn is so sensitive there that his hips jerk up at the action, cock twitching.

“Love that,” Niall laughs softly. He plays with Shawn like that for a while, until Shawn is whining, his nipples are a swollen dark pink, and glistening with Niall’s spit, and he can feel his underwear sticking to him with how much he’s leaking.

“Ni, please,” Shawn says again; he’s not above begging, he never has been, and Niall knows that, but better, he gives in to it, so easily.

“Alright, popstar,” Niall grins, finally, _finally_ unbuttoning Shawn’s pants and pulling them down over his hips along with his briefs, stopping at the knees. Shawn sighs at the relief and the sensation of cool air against his aching dick, which Niall immediately takes in hand, stroking slowly, eliciting a broken moan from Shawn’s throat. He has guitar calluses like Shawn does, but his hand feels completely different than Shawn’s, completely better.

He works Shawn’s cock almost expertly, twisting at the right places, rubbing over the head at the right times, and it’s almost scary how attuned Niall is to him except for how it feels really, really good.

It’s good, but it’s not all Shawn wants.

“Fuck me,” Shawn rasps after a few minutes. Niall’s hand stutters in its movements. He looks up at Shawn, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Shawn bristles. “Aren’t _you_ supposed to be the one congratulating _me_ here? Please fuck me.”

“I mean, I ‘spose if ya _really_ want,” Niall says, then laughs at the look Shawn gives him. He moves to pull Shawn’s pants the rest of the way down and off. (He tries to pull off Shawn’s socks as he goes but only manages one.)

Niall strips his own shirt off as well, revealing that chest his shirt had been teasing all night, the dark hair littering it and the bit of touring weight that he’s put on and pulls off so well. It’s soft, like his hair and smile, and it almost makes him seem bigger than Shawn, even though he’s definitely not, not in body nor build.

Niall doesn’t read the type to be insecure about these things, though, and he doesn’t act it either- in fact, he catches Shawn staring and gives him a smirk, running a hand down his stomach in a cliche “sexy” move that shouldn’t do anything at all for Shawn but does anyways. He snickers then gestures for Shawn to turn over, and Shawn obeys so quickly he might be embarrassed if he was he sober, but, well.

Niall’s hands are on his ass instantly, squeezing and stroking and there are those calluses again, just the right side of rough on Shawn’s skin. Shawn holds his breath because he doesn’t know where Niall is going from here, and he’s still holding it about a full minute later when Niall spreads his hands and dips his tongue just over Shawn’s hole, the scruff on his chin and cheeks scratching the surrounding areas and _oh_. All of the air in Shawn’s body rushes out in one breath. This is _new_ , and good, and Shawn’s head is already spinning, a noise coming out from low in his throat.

He feels Niall adjust his position behind him but otherwise has no warning when Niall dives back in with more confidence. His tongue is _wetter_ this time, and it laps over Shawn repeatedly now, getting _him_ wet, until there’s a sound coming with it, filthy and hot and Shawn didn’t know _anything_ could feel this amazing. Then Niall gives his tongue more pressure and it’s _inside_ and he’s fucking Shawn with it, thrusting it in and out, moaning against Shawn like this is the best thing to happen to him all night, and he just keeps going until there’s spit running down to soak Shawn’s balls and hell, Shawn thinks he could come from this, maybe, but he also thinks he’ll go insane if Niall doesn’t fuck him properly soon.

But then Niall pulls away and Shawn changes his mind, Niall should keep doing that forever, come back, come back.

“Gotta get lube, sweetheart,” Niall mutters, dropping a wet kiss on Shawn’s lower back as he slides off of the bed to dig into one of his personal bags. He’s back in a flash, and Shawn takes it upon himself to turn back over, because it’s been too long since he’s seen Niall’s face. It’s as great a face as he remembers, the eyebrows creasing as Niall slicks up his fingers, sets the bottle of lube aside, and- wait a second.

“You- ah,” Shawn gasps as a finger slides into him, “you came- prepared, ohh.”

“I don’t think ya can complain,” Niall replies, quickly adding a second finger and a drizzle of more lube.

“I’m not,” Shawn says breathlessly. His hand floats down to palm over his hard cock just a bit, but then Shawn brings it back to his side; he really doesn’t want to come too soon tonight. Niall’s fingers are thick, something Shawn has always noticed about them, and they feel perfect stretching Shawn out, stroking him inside just right, almost, almost-

“Ah!” Shawn sighs, as those fingers hit just the right spot. Niall makes smug sound, ducking down to kiss about Shawn’s stomach like earlier. He’s so good at this, and Shawn won’t think about what the reasons behind that might be, because right now it’s just him and Niall, and tonight, and them both being winners together- this is Shawn’s congratulations and it’s not even close to finished but it’s already making him wish he could win an award every goddamn night.

“I think you’re ready, love,” Niall says eventually, his voice low and gruff. He looks Shawn in the eyes, the blue almost completely swallowed by black pupil, but Shawn still feels like he could drown in them.

“Yeah, yeah, pleasepleaseplease,” Shawn babbles mindlessly. Niall’s fingers leave him and he’s empty for a moment, his hips canting upwards slightly as Niall pulls away to grab a condom, but then he’s back, nudging Shawn’s thighs over his hips, and pressing _there_ \- and suddenly Shawn is grabbing at Niall’s biceps as he moans loudly. There is one area in which Niall is bigger than Shawn, a stinging pleasure reminds him, as Niall slides all the way in. Fuckkkk.

“So good for me, Shawnie,” Niall says softly. Shawn’s eyes flutter shut at the petname, and Niall starts up a slow rhythm, a hand coming up to wrap around one of Shawn’s thighs and hitch it higher, getting a deeper, different angle.

“Th-there!” Shawn hiccups, gasping through the influx of pleasure coursing throughout his body.

“Yeah, I got you,” Niall says, promises, thrusting a bit faster, alot harder, until Shawn can’t do much but moan and scrabble at Niall’s chest and sides and oh, he feels close already.

“Fuck!” Niall exclaims suddenly, and his thrusts adopt an aborted motion. A hiss of pain breaks Shawn out of his slight daze, and he opens his eyes to see Niall pulling a grimace as his hands slip on Shawn’s thighs.

“Oh shit,” he realizes. “Your knee, fuck, I didn’t- I’m sor-”

“Nah,” Niall waves a hand weakly. His breathing is a touch more shallow than before. “M’fault, overestimated the damn thing.” He pulls away and Shawn whimpers at the loss, scrambles up onto his elbows to follow Niall, laying comforting kisses onto Niall’s chest as he goes.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “I got it.” He does; he’s drunk, but not too drunk to make this good, how Niall deserves, fuck a dodgy knee. A minute later he has Niall’s cock inside him again, only now his hips are over Niall’s, sinking and rising. Niall has his good knee up, helping with his own minute thrusts.

“God, ya look a beaut up there,” he groans. “Meant for this, meant for ridin’ my cock.” Shawn’s blush, previously hot only on his face, spreads down his chest, as Niall’s dirty talk goes on. His hands are on either side of Niall’s navel, helping him keep balance. He isn’t gonna last very much longer.

“Niall,” he moans.

“Go ‘head, love,” Niall says, reading every sign, and then his hand is on Shawn, stroking hard and fast, pulling Shawn towards the edge. He hurtles over with this weird cut-off sound, seeing stars, mouth open in a way that probably looks ridiculous, but he doesn’t even care because every nerve is going white-hot- he’s coming all over Niall’s stomach, tight around his dick.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, uhhhhn” he trails off into a groan as he comes down, his hips stopping. He feels like he’s just run a marathon, or come off a rollercoaster, or both. And Niall feels bigger and harder inside him then he did before, sending sparks of oversensitivity up his spine.

Niall swipes a hand over his stomach, gathering Shawn’s come, brings it up to Shawn’s mouth. Shawn leans down to suck Niall’s fingers; he tastes salty and bitter, and fuck, it’s hot. Niall must agree because with one more short thrust upwards into Shawn, he’s coming. For all that Niall talked before, he comes quietly, with a low grunt and a screwed up face and a hand clenching hard around Shawn’s hip, hopefully leaving bruises. The sight alone makes Shawn wish he could come again.

“Fuck,” Niall laughs breathlessly, after pulling out. He rolls Shawn off of him so he can dispose of the condom, then stretches out next to him, both of them naked and sated.

“Yeah,” is all Shawn can say back. He smiles as he leans in to kiss up Niall’s jaw, finds his mouth in a kiss that’s just as wet and dirty as the ones earlier, just slower, lazier, tasting slightly of come. _This_ , this is what he was after practically all night, sitting next to Niall, watching him perform, seeing him _win_.

Niall laughs again when they part.

“What?” Shawn asks, similarly giggly and buzzing on endorphins and alcohol and _Niall_.

“I just- fuckin’ love winning awards.”

Shawn smiles so hard his face hurts.

“Me fucking too.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the crap ending :/ might come back and fix that one day but I just wanted it out of my drafts lol. also can I just say that just because Shawn is tall and built doesn't mean he isn't a twink- you know who you are. thanks for reading!


End file.
